First - the neighbors. We're meeting many of them; they're warm but diffident (they all want to see what we've done with the house but won't ask outright to see it.) Many of them were talking yesterday about last night's big event -- a Tim McGraw concert. Much love of country music here. It's interesting, actually. We had dinner at a place last night with live music -- country -- and the singer/guitarist played country versions of what were actually songs by Canadians -- the Band, Neil Young -- but tried to sing them as though he were from West Virginia.
Dinner itself was noteworthy. We went to a place called the Island Stone Pub in Kensington; found it when we stopped for a drink after cycling yesterday. The place has only been around a few months, and when I ordered a drink there was much excitement and merriment. Nick and I were puzzled at all the brouhaha --- they said I was the first to order it.
Here's what happened: in my (typical) haste, I didn't bother to read the intro to the 3-drink menu -- the part that said each drink, for $30, was served in a fishbowl, included six shots and came with 4 or 5 straws. Everyone in the pub was looking and laughing, and I told the waitress that I'd broken one of the very few rules I have -- never order any embarassing food or drink. If nothing else I gave everyone at the place a big laugh, and for that alone it was worth it. Did my best to live up to expectations but barely made it through half the bowl. And I shudder to think about what happened to the fish.